It's been an unbelievably long time since the last one -- probably something Chris ran -- but it's story time again for this weekend's TR contest, which is sponsored by me and my bigass pile of Topless Robot shirts. The theme: Tell me your worst nerd shopping experience. Now let me explain.

This can be any experience you had in any nerdy store; I'd expect most of them to involve comic shops, but there have been RPG stores, anime collectibles stores, and other stuff. But it can also be an experience you had while shopping for something nerdy. Did someone accost you in Toys "R" Us while you were trying to buy a certain Star Wars figure back in 1997, for a totally random example? It can also be a tale if you worked at a nerdy shopping establishment (which admittedly gives you guys the edge, but we all just want to read entertaining stories, so whatevs). Basically, if you have a story that involves both shopping and nerdiness, I want to hear it.

One entry per person, since you can only have one "worst" experience. Please try to limit them to around 200 words max, pretty please. The contest ends at 12:01 am EST on Monday, October 8th, 2012. Panda Jesus oh no corndog, everybody!

More links from around the web!

I remembered another one- I was about 10 and my dad took me to a really early sci-fi con and I forgot to bring my glasses for some reason and everything farther than arms reach was a blur. Nerd-torture

When I was a teen I entered a sci-fi/fantasy model diorama contest at my local hobby shop and built a moon outpost under attack. I picked a moon of Jupiter or Saturn to make it cooler and explain the blue ground and I put the name of the moon on the landing platform in 72 point text-
no one told me 'Eros' was a sexy-times Roman god and a porn magazine until it had been on display at the store for weeks.
I would supply a photo link but that one is AWOL, I do have some of my custom spaceships from that era in Flickr
http://www.flickr.com/photos/action-packed/sets/72157603915396338/

This doesn't really rate higher than "most annoying nerd shopping experience" - and even then I'm sure I've had worse experiences, just not worth remembering.

Once in awhile, usually on a lunch break, I would go to a comic/nerd shop in the Clairemont Mesa area to see if there was anything new. It wasn't one of my regular shops, but was worth checking out from time to time because of that haunting feeling us nerds get that we're missing something somewhere. Anywho, this would have been in '91, I believe, and there was a local fantasy author who was in the shop that day holding court with his adoring fans - at least I assumed they were there willingly. I don't believe he was there for any signing, it was probably just a local haunt of his. I didn't know who he was at first, and was just browsing and eavesdropping, like ya do. I quickly figured out who he was, and I had read one of his non-series books (which I had a 'meh' feeling towards). For the 15 or so minutes I was there I had to listen to this gasbag bloviate his opinions on just about everything, plus remark no less than 3 times about how he made "six figures a book". I vowed it would be snowing in La Jolla before I would read another one of this guy's books. I can't walk by his books on a shelf anywhere without my lip curling into a sneer.

I was shopping at DreamHaven here in the Twin Citites. It was pretty cold and I was wearing a long coat I'd just gotten at the local Savers. Some customer was doing that thing where they insist on following the employee around loudly gabbing about their favorite comic, the best character, how much of a fan they are, what comics are coming out while the employee is obvoiusly trying to stock shelves and help other customers. The guy was getting pretty shrill and demanding in that . . . I don't know how to describe it. It's that tone of voice that customers get - I notice it a lot in comic book stores - that says "I believe I have certain rights here somply by existing." Finally, the employee snaps and turn around saying "Sir, I have a lot of work to do and I need you to leave me alone." The guy pauses for maybe a second. Maybe. Before launching back into whatever the heck he was talking about. Completely clueless. The employee finally went into the back room to hide from him.

The upshot? He was wearing the exact same coat that I was. I was so embarrassed to be seen in the same thing this guy was wearing, I took it off and wouldn't wear it. For ten years. That's how uncomfortable an experience it was.

I punched a guy.I punched a guy in the face.I punched a guy in the face over legos.I was selling 10lbs of Legos on Craigslist for $10. When the buyer and I met up, I handed him the bag and he instantly said "Hey this isn't 10lbs!" and then he threw 5 one dollar bills at me and started to leave! I ran up to him, punched him in the face and took my Legos back!

A few years ago, I was hunting for G.I. JOE figures. They are pretty hard to come by in the UK as there's not a whole lot of interest compared to the US. I went to a local Sci-Fi specialist store called 'Off-World' and find out they had a bunch of loose incomplete JOEs and to my discovery, I found a rare variant Tiger Force Tunnel Rat figure in a box which was marked at "Everything £3" I try to keep my cool, pick the figure out along with a couple of others and put them on the counter.

The guy looks at me and say the Tiger Force Tunnel Rat is actually meant to be in the display case marked at £75. There's an arguement with me standing my ground about how they made a mistake and put the figure in the £3 box and I refuse to pay £75 for it.

Let's just say I got banned from the store when I told the guy he should change it's name to 'Rip-You-Off-World'

I adopted my son & daughter in December. The following January, I took my son to his first Comicon. To those not versed in nerd-ese, Comicon is a comic book convention. It consists of Superhero and Sci-fi fans converging in what’s usually a cramped room filled with, while not unwashed, rarely washed masses.

The big appeal is the appearance of comic book artists & writers (famed or otherwise), handfuls of attendees dressed up as their favorite Star Wars characters, and the chance to see a clip of the new Spider-Man movie they’re remaking for the 43rd time. If you’re confused, lost, or just don’t care, know this: my 5 year old son loves to draw. I was going to introduce him to the rewards a world in art could offer you, or at the very least, blow his mind when a Storm Trooper walked by. I had also done some online research and found out there would be a few African-American creators at the event. This is a rare club in the comics universe and I thought it would be great for him to see there are people just like him enjoying the fruits of their imagination.

We spent our time wandering past tables and tables of unknown artists signing autographs in hopes to pique interest in their books. Fighting the good fight, building readership one geek at a time. We combed over posters, trading cards, and vintage action figures with kung-fu grips. My son had never seen anything like this. Too much sensory input had given him a glazed look as he shuffled from one new experience to another.

I gave him a mental break when I found a guy selling old comics for 25 cents apiece. I figured I could fill a bag for the boy, and if he destroyed it with voracious reading and poor handling, it’d be no true loss.

While I flipped through the musty smelling titles, he tugged on my arm and asked, “I don’t have school Monday right?”

“That’s right, buddy. You have the whole day off.”

“It’s for kings day?”

“That’s right. For Martin Luther King day”, I answered clearly.

“Why do we not go to school on Martin Luther Kings day?”

Eeeeaaarchh.... Record skip. The din of haggling over Middle Earth wares ceased. Previously a crowd had gathered to argue who would win in a fight, Hogwarts Academy or Marvel’s Avengers (Ultimate not Mighty), now frozen, as if by an ice spell.

The vendor who had previously ignored me while I shuffled through his box of also-rans now stared me in the eye, unwavering. Behind me, a black comic book artist plopped down his pencil, crossed his arms, and the smug look on his face was quite clear: “Let’s see you get out of this one.”

A group of ‘forever alone’ programmers stopped taking cell phone pictures of the Plus-Size Catwoman who had just sashayed into the room. I felt the light of a thousand red L.E.D’s shining on me, and knew, within moments I would be a worldwide sensation on Youtube. This was not what I hoped my first appearance on ‘The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson’ would be based on. I was stuck.

To this day, somewhere in his mother’s dank basement, a 40 year old man is still cursing the 3 World of Warcraft questors who dropped out of his Orc hunting party - leaving him slain, to await my answer.

“This is why you have off for Martin Luther King Day! My black son holding his white father’s hand in a hotel. A hotel that we walked right in the front door with no shame! A world where they can launch a Spider-Man comic with an African-American/Mexican Peter Parker. A room where the cops aren’t bursting in, to arrest the man behind us for making a living in the same field as his white counterpart. There was a movie starring a black Catwoman, for goodness sakes! No one even thought twice when they saw us together, sharing our first Father/Son moments in Nerdvana. This is why we celebrate!

THIS WAS THE DREAM!”

But I didn’t say any of that.

I smiled sheepishly at the man behind the counter as I placed a couple dollars in his hand.

“I’ll explain it to you later, son.” I handed him some comics. “This guy is called Luke Cage. You’re gonna love him”

I once went to an anime shop in little Tokyo. Went to L.A for ramen and we went to the stores there. The store seemed interesting lots of stuff to see. They didn't want us to take pictures the insane notion that people would blow up the pictures and just print the posters at home or some bull. i was looking at the overpriced bracelets and necklaces to get for my bro/sis when i noticed they where looking at me just not me every one every little move seeing if we stole something. Felt so dam unconformable. people may steal from them but it just feel awful being watched. every little move you made.all i wanted was something anime related for bro and sis. it may be that's just how L.A is first time there . I just ended up buying them lots of strange and tasty snacks in a friendlier store.

During the time when DC was leaning hard on the press about which of it's major characters would be a cannon homosexual, a friend and I were talking about the subject at our local comic book store here in Denver. I suggested Booster Gold. I love Booster. He's one of my favorite DC heroes and him being gay just made so much sense. How much he cared for Ted, his rigid alpha male traits, his lack of any real commitment with a female. It all made so much sense. (Also his robot is named Skeets. COMEDY JOKES.) But when I suggested this to the clerk, a man who seemed well groomed and reasonable his face immediately soured and he responded with a harsh "Booster Gold isn't a fucking gay dude." and with a hesitant grin I said "Pr-Probably not! But wouldn't it be great if he was?". The man slammed his fist on the table and spat out another "No!" and after collecting himself grimaced "Booster Gold isn't queer." I laughed. The man was so adamant about it. So I pressed further. "Can't you just see him and Ted Kord fighting crime then going home holding hands and snu--" he stopped me and shouted for my friend and I to immediately leave the store, ranting about Booster Gold not being and never being gay. To which my friend responded with. "I wanna see Booster and Ted fuck." We're not allowed back at that comic book store anymore.

I was 8 years old and had just pretty much lost my hearing on the right side due to a massive infection that destroyed 3/4 of my eardrum. My dad literally handed me $5 and told me to go get him a pack of ciggies at the 7-11 knock off. Of course, even though it was the very liberal late 1970's an 8 year old asking for smokes was just a little too much for the clerk to handle. I remember very loud situation and a call to my father that ended up in a screaming match between the two of them. Since I was sure that the clerk was going to call the cops, I ended up fleeing the store and not returning home until I knew dad was asleep (he slept early due to his job).

Three months later dad gave me $1 to go get a slushie at the same store. It was the same clerk this time and I hadn't seen him since the incident. I immediately lost my voice. I couldn't ask him for a slushie since the last time I asked for anything it went so well. I ended up grabbing some candy and browsing the comic rack where I immediately fell in love with the cover of a Wonder Woman comic. I paid for the candy and comic and returned home quickly.

My father, seeing me without a slushie and holding a comic book, freaked out and ripped up the comic in front of me. He didn't take the candy (I was smart enough to hide that in my pocket), but he made such a scene that I pretty much avoided anything to do with Wonder Woman for the next decade out of fear of another tirade. I'm pretty much convinced that only thing that saved me from a life long fear of Wonder Woman was George Perez's reboot of the comic. Perez art trumps any childhood trauma, dangit. :)

I wanted to get the full set of Lantern rings, which of course came with issues of select comics. But I didn't want to get all of those comics. Somehow after the initial sales, I missed four of the rings that didn't come with books I normally read, and my normal shop (in Pittsburgh) ran out of them. Of course this just means that the hunt is on. I find one of the missing rings in another Pittsburgh shop for a quarter. Several months later I find another in San Antonio while there temporarily, also for a quarter. Then, nothing. I can't find the two missing rings anywhere, and don't want to resort to ebay. More than six months later, a shop in Lancaster, PA has both of the rings I still need. I ask the guy how much for them and after thinking about it he says $2.99 each. Naturally I don't think twice about this and pay up, finally owning the complete set!

Later I realize I just paid full price for comic and ring, without the comic...and that they are just shitty colored plastic rings.

I ordered a phazon suit samus statue from First 4 Figures. This was badass statue- it lit up, was high quality, was huge, and looked awesome. It was also extremely limited run- 1500 pieces worldwide. When I ordered it online I spent $200 on the thing, money from my first real summer job. Then they pushed back the release date. And kept pushing it back. And back some more.

So it came out a six months behind schedule. At which point I no longer lived in the same place. They delivered it to my old apartment- a crappy place which has since become, of all things, a Frat House. I went in to see if I could find it but no luck. The ass of a house manager told me he didn't care and that someone had probably stolen it (there was no secure mail system, just a fucking table that they put mail on and just picked it up so that ANYONE had access to mail.)

I searched around for weeks. I called people. I stalked the guy on facebook who signed for the package. I blamed the post office. I blamed the frat house. I blamed the website that sent the figure. I blamed the website that MADE the figure. I tried to cancel my my order but everyone kept blaming everyone else for failing so I was out $200. I realize now that I probably could have pushed the issue and gotten my money back but I was too bummed out to do anything.

So I never got my statue. I still occasionally have a feverish night of drunken research now and again even though it's been four years and the house has changed hands at least twice since then. I still have all the tracking information and the payment notifications. Even if I wanted to get another statue I couldn't. They don't make them anymore and the ones that do go on sale sell for prices I could never afford. This event basically killed my interest in collecting toys- I don't think I've bought a toy over $15 since then. This one statue was to be the centerpiece of my collection. I still get weekly emails from the store that I bought the thing from. They;re little more than a grim reminder.

The worst part of it all is the thought that somewhere my beautiful Samus is lying in a dumpster somewhere, alone and uncared for. Or that she's some frat guy's dust-covered novelty lighting.

I know this has gone far over 200 words but I could never describe this in so short of a time. I think I'm going to go drink myself into a stupor.

I was in my local KB Toys doing my typical toy run in about 2001. This was also the time that MTV's Jackass was really, really popular. I had noticed that in the aisle with the action figures, several toys had been stacked and spread out on the floor. Excitedly, I thought this meant they were getting ready to stock the shelves. Suddenly, I get accosted by some random college-age douchebag in a KB Toys shirt who starts picking up figures and saying things like, "YOU WANNA BUY SOME SPAWN NITRO RIDERS?!? OH YEAH!!!" After about 10 seconds on this, he proceeded to leap onto the large pile of action figures, while his buddies in the back cackled away. I never saw a camera, but I also never saw this clip on Jackass, so I'm not sure what they were trying to achieve by doing this. They all wore KB garb, so did they get hired just to pull off one single prank? So many questions.

Sorry this is going way over: As soon as I was able to drive, I would often make a weekly trip to the local comic book/game store. Quickly realizing that shopping without money was really lame, I applied for a job there and began working (and getting a lovely discount on items). I only worked a few short months before leaving for college, but I have a huge collection of good and bad stories. I think some of the best stories involved the strangest tactics guys would employ to try to seduce me. (like many other stories on here, I'm a female in nerdom, which leads to many strange experiences!) I call it the Bulbous Butt Spider Story: One Wednesday, I had the extreme misfortune of having to do inventory on our oldest and all-around worst items. They were the DC Archive Hardcover collections, in pitiful condition, tucked into a corner on our floor. While this merchandise by itself isn't bad, the fact that they had been lying in a corner untouched for over a decade (or two, or three) combined with the fact that comic book shops aren't known for their standard of cleanliness- well, I knew it wasn't going to be pretty. As I mentally prepared myself for the task of extricating the merchandise from its corner, I chatted away with my co-worker (manning the register), and his friend (perusing the back-issue bin). The whole process was horrifying, as after touching about two-three books, my hands would become black (we had had an ash problem from the roof), and I'd have to pull cobwebs (complete with long-trapped bugs) from the books in order to count them and not traumatize future customers. The whole time, I'm narrating the process to my co-worker, and occasionally bringing a book over to him for him to take over. His friend saw this and kept saying "You should see how bad *my* job is! We have to deal with dirtiness that you wouldn't believe" etc etc. I thought these comments were strange, but I laughed and continued. Eventually, I took a book out, revealing a spider with the biggest butt I had ever seen. He exclaims "This is nothing!" and proceeds to come over, and instead of squishing the bug like a normal person, stoops down and takes his thumb and index finger around the spider, and snaps 'em closed. Why he didn't just stomp on the thing, I'll never know. Perhaps he thought that using his fingers would be a more manly man thing to do? In any case, this action had the opposite effect: the spider's butt merely got redistributed, and the energy got converted into popping the spider high into the air. When the spider landed, he then attempted to kill it with his index finger a few more times, before finally managing to get it. Guess who got to clean that up? I think I took five showers that night.

My worst experience was around the age of 7 or 8. Long story short, I really wanted a Batman comic, but my parents were convinced that nerdy things were for babies. I saved up pennies for months, and went to the local comic book store to get my first Batman comic. Literally I paid in pennies, this was when comics were around $1, the clerk was really nice about it. I brought it home, and my parents found out - I got spanked, and had to return the comic, and explain to the clerk that comics were for babies. Extremely humiliating and demoralizing for a young nerd in training.

The upside is that my parents eventually stopped being d-bags, and now my wife buys me Batman stuff all the time!

(once again I've gone over the suggested word max, but I can't help myself)

I was 11 years old and a huge power rangers fan. Got the Megazord for Christmas, which was totally awesome!

Anyway I really wanted the Dragon Dagger. The problem is that the Saba Sword was out, which was cool, but for me Green Ranger > White Ranger. So I would call Toys'R'Us and see if they had the toy. I saved up all my chore money and was ready to purchase.

Most of the time it was a no, but one time I got a yes. I convinced my mom after much pleading, to drive way out to T'R'Us so I could buy it. The store was about 45 minutes away, so this was a big deal.

We get there, I rush into the store, and all I see if Saba Swords, everywhere. No Dragon Dagger. WTF. I look around in different isles. My mother ignorantly suggests that I buy the Saba Sword. HOW DARE SHE! That's not the same! We find an employee, they say, "no, we don't have that." we reply with a "we called" and got a "sorry".

A month later (which might as well be centuries in kid time) I try again, after seeing the Dragon Dagger in the Sunday circular. There it was, in all it's glory, in a full color advertisement. This time Mom calls the store to double check, obviously not believing that I had already done so. We get the affirmative and head out.

I can barely sit still in the front bucket seat of the minivan. It's burgundy seat chaffing my arms while the seat belt viciously cuts into my neck. I don't care, however, because I'm about to be the custodian of a weapon of terrible power. A dagger that is also a kind of flute, an ocarina that summons a giant robot from the depths of the ocean. The combined forces of TMNT mutant baddies, Cobra, & generic bad guy figures from the dollar store; will have NO CHANCE to survive the onslaught of destruction that the Dragon Dagger will rain down upon them. I'm on an emotional expectant high that no sugar rush could hope to attain.

We pull up into the parking lot. I pull a Buster Bunny and motor into that toy shop.

There are no Dragon Daggers. AGAIN. Only that new sensation the Saba Sword.

I am crushed. This time, however, my mother is pissed. She asks for the manager. She gives him a piece of her mind. I'm to upset to accept a new action figure as a consolation prize, but pull it together enough on the ride home to agree to a chocolate milkshake.

From then on I've always mistrusted retail employees. It's a feeling that will never be shaken because I did everything I could have done to wrap my small pre-teen fingers around that green plastic hilt, and because of lazyness or ignorance my ennui delved deep into my soul. Deep enough for me to remember this as the Worst Nerd Shopping Experience of my life.

The other day I was picking up issues of Fables, since I've fallen a fair amount behind...and some kid (about 10) was running around picking out stuff, and looks over at my pile, super casually mentions how it sucks, not to me but like..come on kid. you don't even know. this isn't even that bad....+1 for not having horrible experiences!....I just wanted to fit in...

So, I shop on this website run by this guy named rob. I've placed like, a f**king hundred orders for a simple tshirt. Poor customer service, lots of extra crap, and I still HAVENT GOTTEN A TSHIRT! And now they replaced it with some lame T I would never wear. And the worst part? They insist on sometimes mentioning how CLOSE I came to getting my shirt shipped.

This happened to me very recently... I'm a huge fan of Jeff Smith's comic series "Bone." I pretty much consider it my favorite comic ever, and it holds a special place in my heart. As a huge fan of both Bone and collecting action figures, I had always wanted to get my hands on a few of the short-lived Bone figures from Resaurus that were produced in the late 90's. eBay prices were always a bit high, so I never got around to purchasing them.

Enter House of Fun, an action figure store in my area. I enter the store one Saturday and see that the owner has recently acquired figures of both Kingdok and the brown rat creature, two characters from Bone. I literally screamed out in excitement, and asked the worker behind the counter how much he wanted for either of the figures. My heart sunk at his response: "Chris (The shop owner) is a big Bone fan too, so I'm not sure what's for sale and what isn't." I was devastated, but found out through Chris himself that Kingdok was for sale. As I stepped aside to examine my wallet, I looked slightly to my left and noticed something even more insane...

Sitting by the Kingok was a massive PILE of Bone figures. Every single figure from the series, to be exact, excluding variants. I asked the guy behind the counter (Kevin) to get Chris on the phone again, because I had to have some of these. Luckily, Chris had come down to the shop at that point, and was able to tell me personally which were for sale and which weren't. I was able to get figures of Smiley and Fone Bone, though Chris told me he needed to keep Phoney, who I also wanted, for his own personal collection.

Obviously, this part of the story isn't all bad. Trust me. It gets worse. The next weekend, I decided to go back to HoF, as I had some extra money and wanted to purchase the Kingdok. I entered the store and asked where the Kingdok was and if it was still the price he quoted me. Here's where it gets aggravating: The Kingdok figure was NOWHERE to be found. They searched the entire store, checked the logs, and everything. It was just... Gone. It hadn't been sold, and the likely explanation is that someone walked off with it when no one was looking (Maintenance and security at House of Fun are not well handled). There's no possible way they lost it, because it's fucking enormous.

With Kingdok out of the picture, I returned to the pile of carded figures from last week, as Chris hadn't specified which ones were for sale and which weren't. I went through the pile, and found out that he was keeping EVERYTHING except the two figures I had already bought, Thorn (Who I didn't want) and the Kingdok, which had inexplicably gone missing. It was Thorn or nobody, and I didn't want Thorn. So I walked out of the store with a pile of perhaps my personal most wanted figures sitting there, within my reach but simultaneously unattainable, and the thing I went in to buy just... Gone.

This was a horrible experience for a plethora of reasons. Firstly, my emotional attachment to Bone made it very difficult for me to walk out and just leave those figures sitting there. I need to have these figures, and I couldn't get them. The other thing is this: The owner of the store, Chris, is a huge Bone fan and that's great. I love it when I run into people who love Bone and hold it with the same reverence that I do. But It's completely unfair to leave stuff that you're not selling sprawled out on the store floor. Either put it behind the counter, or bring it home with you! It wouldn't be that hard to just go through them real quick and take them home! Compound that with the fact that Kingdok was inexplicably gone, and you've got a recipe for horribleness that was caused almost purely by the laziness of Chris, the owner.

The sad thing is that I'll be back there next weekend anyway, because it's the best damn toy store in my area.

At our local comic store, my buddy Ray and I were doing some browsing for games and wound up staring at some Monsterpocalypse stuff. In a matter of moments we're accosted by this mouth-breather that shambles up along side of me with his head turned at a mentally defective angle asking "You guys play MonPoc?" Ray attempts to respond to the creature, I back away and slip to another section of a store. I couldn't take it. This guy was the kind of troglodyte that gives every geek a bad rap - the socially maladjusted gamer nerd that cares not for hygiene or acceptable interpersonal communication techniques.

So as I'm looking at trade paperbacks a few minutes later, this guy shambles (and I'm not kidding, this is the most accurate descriptor of how he moved) toward me again, mouth-breathing and all, and says in a zombie-like fashion, "must...find...MonPoc players..."

I immediately looked up, said "nope, I'm out," and walked straight out of the store. Ray still accuses me of abandoning him there with the guy, I found that Z-Day rules applied there - survival at all costs.

When I was around 9,I was the biggest Godzilla fan you could possibly meet.This being the early 70's,very little Godzilla merchandise existed at the time.One day my Father & I went into a five & ten store (that era's dollar store equivalent) & there it was: The Aurora Models Godzilla model kit! My older brother's friend had one & I so very much wanted one as well! Despite my begging & pleading with my Dad,he wouldn't budge on buying the kit for me.What did I have to settle for instead? A 25 cent green T-Rex toy from the bargain bin. My little heart was crushed but at least my army men had a new foe to fight in the backyard.That is until our dog ate T-Rex shortly afterwards. (Epilog: I did get my Godzilla kit three years later... : )

It’s 1984 and my best friend and I are 14 years old. Every Saturday, we ride our bicycles to “Comics Hawaii”. It’s a smallish store – your basic LCS and I estimate maybe 4,000 books (?) in inventory. I always blow my $5 on that week’s Marvels. My friend pays for his DCs and starts reading. I discuss last week’s stories with Owner Guy Mike.

One dismal day, Mike tells us he’s going out of business soon. The next LCS is over an hour away by bus and not nearly so amazing. Mike tells us “since you love comics as much as me, you can have all my comics for $500.”

We’re gobsmacked, but Mike assures us he’s totally serious. His price to others is higher, but they’re older. Mostly, he wants his collection to go to someone who will read it instead of just selling them to pay off creditors.

Every week until he closed, we updated Mike on our funds. I’d look around and visualize getting lost in all those stories. The desire to own half a shop’s inventory was palpable and wrenching. On closing day, our life’s savings was a measly $203.

I stopped collecting comics soon after because I’d go to the other LCS and wonder how many of their comics came from Mike’s.

This didn't happen in a "nerdy" store but I went into Journey's to try and find my friend a pair of DC Harley Quinn Converse for her birthday. I was staring at the wall full of DC shoes when one of the girls (20's, with poofy scene hair and too much eyeliner) working there came over and asked if she could help me. I was having trouble finding the shoes so I asked if she had the Harley Quinn ones. She was completely confused and I had to explain that Harley Quinn was the woman in the jester outfit that was in love with Joker. Her response was a very insincere "Ooooh! You actually follow that stuff? That's so cool!". I couldn't believe the level of stupidity I was facing, so I turned and stalked out of the store.

It's okay. It's not like Batman has been a part of American pop culture since the 1930's or anything.

I know this contest is for the worst experience but I wanted to talk about my best one.

I went to my local comic shop about three years ago on Free Comic Day. I noticed that there was this guy dressed up as Robin to help promote the event. I never spoke to him but I was checking him out (I am a shameless Dick Grayson fan). Anyway, we never spoke, I bought some comics, and time went on.

Now I'm dating a guy who I met in the comic section of Barnes and Noble. We were at brunch one day when I mention the Robin from Free Comic Day all those years ago. Go figure. That was my boyfriend.

We read FFF together and reference the stories in conversation (it's cute in a really, really disturbing way).

I know it's not the worst nerd shopping experience, but I thought it was pretty fucking cute. Went in to buy some comics and unknowingly put a boyfriend on layaway.

What is worse – to have a bad shopping experience or to be the cause of multiple bad shopping experiences because of your bone-headed management’s orders? Ponder this as I tell my tale.

I used to work in a comic book/games shop chain with incredibly clueless upper management. There were a number of stupid things they but their crowning achievement had to be what I called “The Seeing Eye Man Edict.” In brief, they made it official store policy that any woman who entered the store should be immediately approached by an employee and guided to either our collection of fairy statues and Pocket Dragons or to the display of Hello Kitty merchandise we somehow wound up investing in. We were required to do this for every woman – even the regulars who we knew damn well had no interest in Hello Kitty, fairies or Pocket Dragons.

It completely escaped the management that A) we had female customers who bought things for themselves – not the men in their life & B) it was incredibly insulting and/or creepy that they believed women needed to be guided around the store to a “girl-safe” area, like they were blind or incapable of browsing without assistance.

If I get this, the shirt should go to my little bro because it's mainly his story. See, he's an avid Pokemon player, and because of this, he's just starting to get into the RPG genre and wanted to dip into something a bit more complex. So, I drove him up to the game shop, and thirty minutes later, he came running back to me with his brand new copy of "The World Ends With You" and trying (and failing) hard not to cry. I asked him what's wrong, and he told me he ran across his friends from school and got picked on for both owning a "kiddie console" (a Nintendo DS) and picking a "kiddie game" (because of the anime/cartoonish covers) while, according to them, everybody else in their class are picking up copies of “Left 4 Dead”.

He ended up not touching his DS and lost his appetite for gaming for three months, since apparently the taunting continues at school, until I finally decided to get my own DS and show him how wrong his friends were. I’ve forgotten how cruel kids could be until that incident that day at the game shop.

my story takes place when the old dcdirect started doing figures and me and my friend went to a comic shop where i was hunting for the question. finding my prize i walk up to the counter along with my normal comics i buy and the clerk sees the figure and says did not know you believed that aran rand crap the characters creator believes in. getting a little mad and not wanting to waste an argument i walked out of the store. waited for my friend and went to another store to get the question.

Also idk if this counts as an entry but o well same day went to get ramen at neer orochon in la. since we went there before the shops and we wanted more ramen but in a diff shop. bad bad idea my buds beer was warm the ramen where still square(like instant ramen) and the stock was horrible ._. . When we left my bud noticed the place also only had a B grade. Instant Ramen would have been beter and not cost us 10 bucks a bowl. Since we made a 2 hour trip to get some ramen from orochon i would call it a nerd shopping experience. Oh btw we went there just to get the special 2 was worth it.

here's another one: I'd like to preface this by saying that my favorite part of my job was talking to and interacting with other women who came into the shop- most of them were actual fans, not buying things for their boyfriends or guy-friends, and it had always been my pet peeve when I was treated as if I wasn't shopping for myself. I loved discussing what they liked to read- we all generally had the same taste and I loved recommending my favorite finds to them- and them to me! And also discussing fashion, our difficulties being in a male-dominated hobby, which dice sets were the prettiest, etc. It was just lovely, and that's what I miss most about that job. However, I had one absolutely worst experience with a female customer. She was looking for the perfect miniature to paint for a campaign, and she had brought her boyfriend- a fellow player- along. Now, I'm excited because I love going through minis to find the perfect one, and I start going through the racks, making small talk as I go. Between the information I need (race, class, weapon-type, shield?, detailing, armor) she starts feeding me information that I really DON'T need, "Wow, a girl working at a comic book store! That's so cool, way to represent. Doesn't being a girl make role-playing games so much more interesting? For example, I'm really fascinated by sexual role-play. Do you have an erotic supplement for D&D? No? Too bad. Yeah, my DM is difficult to work with, but being a female player, I realized I just had to have sex with him to get my way hahahaha" (I can tell from her boyfriend's face that he most certainly is NOT the DM and he is incredibly uncomfortable) "Have you ever had to do anything like that? Really, you haven't! Well, you definitely should." Did I mention that there were other customers in the store? Parents, kids, teenagers? Way to represent, indeed.

I think I know that site that you meant, though I find it annoying for a completely different reason. There's this guy who goes by the initial J.B. who tries real hard to be funny in the comments section, but just really came across as annoying.

You know what's funny? I imagine the girl to look EXACTLY like Harley Quinn, what with your description of "poofy hair" and "too much eyeliner". Oh, the irony: a ditzy bamboozle who dressed exactly like the character she knew nothing about!

@Joi_the_Artist Ouch, I know how you feel. Worked at a comic book and game shop as a female, and fortunately was able to help many-a-women find the perfect dice :) I've also walked into stores as a customer and felt completely out of place, and actively tried to prevent that from happening where I worked.

Notice that the edict says "Seeing Eye MAN" instead of "Seeing Eye PERSON". I'm guessing that your upper management are a bunch of Don Draper wannabes who still believed that women out of the kitchen is the reason why God hates us, that He looked at the kitchen where no soup is boiling on the stove top and the spice-rack is in disarray before going, "I WILL SMOTE THEM!!"Buncha' retards, if you ask me!

@NeoWedgieAntilles Yeah. The indents don't work properly either. At least not on my machine at home, using Firefox. I CAN type my response in MS Word and cut and paste it into here and have it work, for some reason.